


Knightmare

by a_mere_trifle



Category: Homestuck, Knightmare
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-18
Updated: 2011-01-18
Packaged: 2017-10-14 21:24:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/153604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_mere_trifle/pseuds/a_mere_trifle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a prompt on the fan meme. John's playing Knightmare. Dave and Rose are trying to get him not to get his dumb ass killed. As always, this is way the hell harder than it's got any right to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Knightmare

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not very familiar with the Knightmare show, but I knew the basics, and seeing so many people being an asshole about the prompt ("this will never get filled why did you make this request") made me want to write something for it to spite them. So, apologies for the noticeable lack of Knightmare. And for signing it "Summer Glau" and all. ;)

\--

"Dude," said Dave, "for fuck's _sake_ , man."

"That language is hardly suitable for--" Treguard began, somewhat weakly, because it had become abundantly clear that this situation had spun entirely out of his control long ago. He could see the technical people out of the corner of his eye, running around behind the scenes like ants and buzzing like bees; he knew it wasn't any of them doing this, it couldn't be, and if they hadn't found a way to fix it by now--

"Ignore the bitter one," said Terezi, her habitual grin spread wide. "He's all pissy because he is a human male and we are not."

"While I find this marginally less objectionable than the Freudian notion of 'penis envy'," Rose began, "I must strenuously object to--"

She was interrupted by Vriska sitting on her. "C'mon, John," she said, voice smoother than honey, "you know you can trust us. When have we steered you wrong?"

"Jegus fucking Chris, that is-- that is so fucking ironic it goes beyond ironic, and then wraps back around to ironic again, and then turns into-- Christ, I don't even know! Dude, PLEASE don't tell me you've forgotten how many times these bitches have fucking killed you!!"

"But they've helped me, too," said John, voice still slightly muffled by the helmet. Dave wanted to ask him to take the goddamned thing off, had for hours now, but a look from Rose had stopped him; a look, and the mouthed words, 'Do you think he still can?'

No, he probably couldn't anymore, and it was best he didn't find out for sure. The last thing they needed right now was John flipping his shit, not on top of all the other last things they could possibly need that were right the fuck here--

\--Speaking of, Vriska yelped as a magical knitting needle jabbed her in the ass, jumping up instinctively. Rose struggled to her feet, with a venomous glare; Dave wondered in a brief flash of optimism if those needles were poisonous. Then again, spiders were usually immune. "I would advise you to recall the circumstances of this 'aid', John," she said, yanking the closest microphone neatly toward her. "It was hardly unambiguous."

"But they've played this before," said John. "They know that--"

"--that there's a fucking cliff and you're about to walk right off it like a dumbass," finished Dave. "Do you want to be a Tarot card? Do you really fucking wanna be a Tarot card, man? Because different strokes but it doesn't look like a shitload of fun to me--"

"--It was for a good reason," John said firmly, and Dave tried to restrain himself from banging his head against the console because he knew he'd probably give himself a concussion, or at least draw blood, and the last thing he wanted to hear right now was Terezi going on about candy-apple red with a hint of creamsicle and ashes. Ashes. That was a lie, he knew for sure there were things he wanted to hear less right now.

"John," said Rose, voice laced up with horrible corseted tightness, "this is a thing you must learn: just because it turned out all right in the end, _does not mean it was done for a good reason_."

John hesitated; thank fuck for Rose, John hesitated, and Dave would've let out a sigh of relief except he knew it was way too soon.

"But," he said, "just because it isn't done for a good reason, doesn't mean it won't turn out all right in the end."

"You can't rely on that!!" Rose shouted. "How can you rely on that?!"

"You don't need to worry," interrupted Terezi, with a lick of her fangs. "If something really bad were going to happen, wouldn't the coolkid over here come back to warn you? I don't see future-coolkid anywhere around here."

John brightened, and Dave tried very hard not to kill himself. "Hey, yeah!"

"Dude," said Dave, "This is me from the future, _please try not to walk off a fucking cliff it is a bad idea OKAY?_ "

John laughed. "Nah, I know that's just you, Dave," he said, "you sound different when it's you from the future."

"More broken?" Rose suggested, eyes flashing, voice like a thrown knife. Dave winced; that was a loaded fucking word for him, and she knew it, but if it worked, who gave a shit?

John hesitated again. "But it wouldn't really have happened--"

"Oh, yes it would," he said, and his voice sounded all embarrassing and wrong even to his ears-- all heavy and pained and he tried not to let that shit show, he did his best, but now that was turning out to be half the problem and he couldn't fucking win.

"...Oh," said John, very quietly.

"The Witch is missing, John," said Vriska. "You're on a timer and it's a short one. Do you remember what they said? When you come to a path, you should always go right."

" _Unless_ \--" Rose started, and "I'm going to listen to my friends," John said, voice pained but firm, and "Fine then, don't go left," said Vriska, tossing back her hair.

"Then I WON'T go left!" John yelled, and took a bold step to his right.

Off the motherfucking cliff.

"Motherfu--" Dave heard himself saying, and saw Terezi sit up in alarm, and Vriska's grin grow wide and toothy, and Rose's breath come in a startled gasp.

And someone in the audience yelled, _"USE THE WINDY THING!!"_

And the winds came, blowing Dave against the console, knocking the breath out of him but who the fuck cared, it was carrying John across the gap, and there was land on the other side.

Dave could hear the producers and shit muttering about rules and looking through the audience somewhere behind him, and he wanted to laugh, he might've laughed so hard he cried if he'd had the breath. Like the rules mattered anymore, like the rules weren't out the window and broken and getting run over by pickups on the street. The rules were gone and everything, everything was out of his control.

He didn't know if he could deal with this bullshit. He did know that he had to.

"...Am I okay?" said John, voice muffled; his face was against the ground.

"Yeah," said Dave, "but please try not to fucking do that again. The cliff's to your left and there's a shitty castle to your right and would you please _stop feeding the goddamn trolls._ "

"I resent that remark," said Terezi.

"As well as resemble it," Rose said, sharply, still out of breath herself.

"...Okay, cool. I guess it worked out after all, then, huh?" John got up, brushing off his knees, even though he couldn't see them.

"That remains to be seen," Rose snapped, and Dave was grateful, because he didn't know what he might've said to that. "Your health status is yellow. It has been forty-five minutes since Jade disappeared from the studio."

Forty-eight and twelve seconds, Dave thought, but didn't bother to say.

"Right." John frowned, visibly steeling himself. "To the right, then?"

"Yeah," said Dave, and wondered if this was actually worse than SBurb, where, bad as shit had gotten, he was always able to do _something_. This was a fucking--

"Knightmare," said Terezi, quietly for once, and Dave closed his eyes.

Rose heard, and looked his way, somehow he knew it without looking; and she said, "Three yards to your immediate right, John, and mind the rocks; the wall is crumbling."

He'd have thirty seconds' relief before shit started getting real again.

Thirty seconds would be enough.

\--


End file.
